The words sent a strange shiver down my spine. I shook my head quickly, stepping back from him. “You’re insane.”
“Perhaps.”
Lucien’s gaze remained steady.
“But you’re still here.”
The worst part, the most terrifying truth of all, was that he was right.
CHAPTER 32
Seraphina
The morning sunlight barely pierced the tall windows, yet I felt its warmth press against my skin, reminding me that life continued outside the estate. I wandered through the hallways, fingers trailing along the carved wood of the banisters, trying to ground myself. I could still see my father smiling at me, still hear his voice warning me about the dangers of trusting power.
I found myself in the library, settling among rows of books that smelled faintly of old paper and polish. I tried to focus on research, on Syndicate movements, on anything but the ache in my chest, but Lucien’s presence lingered everywhere. The memory of his stormy gaze, the force of his lips against mine and the suffocating tension of his closeness, was impossible to ignore.
I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the storm of emotion.Rage. Desire. Grief. Love. Hate.They all collided inside me, leaving meraw.Every time I thought I could resist him, my mind betrayed me, replaying moments when I had pressed toward him instead of away. I hated myself for it.
However, I reminded myself that he had killed my father. Everything about him was dangerous, intoxicating and lethal, but I still craved him, as impossible as it felt. As much as I screamed at him, as much as I pushed him away, I was already tethered to him.
CHAPTER 33
Lucien
She thinks she has control. She thinks she can resist me, but every glance, every step and every tremor in her voice proves the opposite. I watched her today, moving through the halls, her posture careful, her hands lightly brushing the woodwork. She believes she is safe in her own thoughts, but I know her. I have memorized her entirely, her body, her mind and her fire.
Ronan reports minor Syndicate movements in Marseille, but my mind drifts to her instead. To the way she shouted at me, the fire in her eyes, the kiss that followed. I want her, yes, but I also want her to understand what she means to me, that my obsession is not gentle, not forgiving, not kind. It is deadly.
The thought makes my chest tighten in anticipation, not anger. A desire and possessiveness mix in a dark cocktail that I cannot shake. Every plan I make, every operation I orchestrate, every enemy I eliminate, it is allfor her. Forus. For the fire between us.
CHAPTER 34
Seraphina
I wandered the gardens, rain slicked paths glinting under the moonlight, trying to think. The flowers smelled faintly of jasmine, of damp earth, and of memories I could not escape. He was everywhere, in the corridors, in the estate’s shadows, in the pulse of the walls themselves.
I wanted freedom. I wanted control. I wanted him to leave me alone and yet, every time I thought of him, I burned with longing. Rage, pain and desire, they were tangled together, impossible to separate. I hated that I wanted him. That I craved him, even after everything.
I stopped near the fountain, watching the water ripple under the radiance gleem. I imagined his hands, his gaze, the way he moved through the world with absolute command and I realized something terrifying, I would never be free of him. Not fully. Not ever.
CHAPTER 35
Lucien
She believes she can hide her flames from me. That she can walk through these halls without my awareness and without my control, but I know her. I feel it in the smallest movements, the way she tilts her head when she’s thinking, the way her hands brush against a ledge or the back of a chair, the almost imperceptible quickening of her pulse when I am near.
I imagine her standing before me, fiery, trembling, trying to scream at me again and I think, let her. Let her shout. Let her resist. It makes her desire all the more potent, all the more dangerous. Her defiance is not a threat, it’s a provocation, an invitation. I want to taste that fire, to feel her fight beneath me and around me, to know that no matter how far she tries to run, how much she tries to claim control, she cannot escape me.
Every operation, every Syndicate negotiation, every subtle movement in Marseille, it is all a game and she is the only piece I cannot lose, the one piece I will never allow to leave. I imagine her slipping through the alleys, the faint click of her heels echoing behind me as I trail her silently, eyes burning into the curve of her neck, the line of her shoulders. She thinks she’s unseen, that she can outrun me but I am in every shadow, in every reflection, in every whisper of the city air.
I picture her now, alone in her room, the soft moonlight catching her hair, gray eyes that spark with defiance and longing. I want to cross the room and claim her, slowly and deliberately trace the contours of her body as though mapping her fire, feeling it answer mine. I want her to know, in the marrow of her bones, that she is mine in every sense that matters and yet, there is patience in me too, a dark, predatory patience, because I want her to want it too. I want her to cravethe control I will take, to taste the danger of letting herself fall into it completely.
She is the storm I cannot contain, the blaze I would gladly burn for, the only game I have ever truly needed to win and when she finally turns, when her chest rises and falls with the surrender I see flicker in her eyes, I will be there, silent, inexorable, consuming and she will learn that no matter how she hides, no matter how she resists, the moment I want her, I will have her completely.
CHAPTER 36
Seraphina
